Wallflower
by Wonderlyn
Summary: Wallflowers are meant to look pretty and never be noticed... so why did he see me?
1. Chapter 1

I watched out the window in my room at the muggle street on a rainy Wednesday. Uncle had told me that we would have visitors coming today and that they'd be staying with us for a while, but he never said why they were coming, who they were or how many would be staying. There'd been a lot of people coming in and out of the house since he came back from Azkaban, and since Father had left, none of them knew that I was here durring the summer and I'm sure that Uncle never told them that his young neice was running amuck on the upper levels of the house. They usually stayed on the first floor and stuck to the kitchen. Often times they would lock the door, keeping me out for hours and they would always put silencing charms on the door so that should someone (like myself I assume) want to listen in they would hear nothing.

Normally this wouldn't have bothered me, I was used to going nearly completely unnoticed, but I wasn't at all used to being out of the loop. I suppose that's one of the traits I did exhibit from Slytherin: my nosyness. Though I may go unnoticed at school, and none of my classmates would know who Carmine was, I knew everything about them. I didn't know them personally, and I probably never would but I knew their stories from rumours and my uncanny ability to eavesdrop into the smallest conversation.

I faintly heard the fireplace engluf in flames and waited. I knew that our floo network could only take one person at a time and I wanted to know how many people were coming before I went to meet them. I knew that the adults who frequented the house were from the order of the pheonix. This much Uncle had told me, he would never tell me what they talked about though and I guess that it played to his inner jokester because he knew my not knowing bothered me. The _whoosh_ of the flames continued on several times and after a while I gave up on counting. I resolved to getting off the window seat and smoothing my shirt of wrinkles and slid my wand into the wasteband of my jeans and wrapped my emerald scarf around my neck to keep me warm in the cold family house.

I set off down the stairs closing my bedroom door behind me. I passed the painting of Grandmother Walburga and bid her a good morning, waving politely. "Good morning child" she said in her most polite and caring tone. To most it would still sound condescending, but her tone of condescending and hatred was much more evil sounding. I'd heard her talk to Uncle, and I knew that the way she talked to me was in a way loving compared to him. A part of me felt bad for her. This was her home, and she was covered up with sheets when we had company. I was the only person who dared to free her from her coverings. Albeit she did go off on just about anyone that she saw who she didn't approve of which was almost everyone, but this is the way that she was raised and "programmed" to be. This was Grandmother Walburga, while she may not be great, she loved me and a loving family was all that I ever wanted.

Continuing into the sitting room where the fireplace was I saw a gaggle of red headed people and Uncle in the midst of all of them. "Ah, Carmine, lovely of you to join us." Uncle said. I nodded silently, just watching. I was well aware they would think me not polite, and crude, but I was by nature just a wallflower. A silent observer of the crowds always going unnoticed and never the center of attention.

"Good morning Uncle." I said just barely above a whisper.

"Carmine, love these are the Weasley's. They're the guests that I told you would be staying with us for a while. They have children your age too, perhaps you could socialize a bit?" he offered. I took notice of their belongings seeing that for the six people they had an aweful lot of clothes and noted that they clearly planned to stay a while. "And Carmine, Rose dear could you show the children to their rooms?"

I nodded like the well raised child of Regulus Black that I was; like the granddaughter of Walburga Black that I was. I took note of the four children: two older twins, a boy probably my age and a girl possibly younger. I quietly spoke out, "Come with me please." and turned and walked away. For a moment I wasn't sure that they'd heard me, and I really don't think that they did but after a moment and probably some quiet pursuasion from Uncle they grabbed their things and followed me. I paused a moment, and said with more presence, "You can leave your things, I'll ask Kreature to bring them up later." before continuing on and up the stairs.

A moment or two after I passed Grandmother Walburga's painting I heard her start shouting and being a rant about having blood traitors in her house, and how it was tainting the presence of the great house of Black. Just before I was out of ear shot of her I heard her rant change slightly to talking about how these people would taint me and destroy my purity. I ignored her and her rant became nothing but a pin prink in the back of my mind. Over the weeks I had gotten used to her tirades as they were frequent when the Order was here.

We reached the second floor, home to Father's and Uncle's bedrooms, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's bedroom and the daughter's bedroom. I showed her the room, and told her that I would have Kreature grab the remainder of her things momentarily, as the only thing she had brought up with her was a small purse. She smiled at me and I left to show the boys to the third floor and to their rooms. I could hear behind me the twins whispering back and forth but heeded no mind to it, and the other boy stayed mute like I. I knew who these people were of course, I was just waiting for them to formally introduce themselves. As I stated before, being a wallflower I knew of everyone. I knew Fred and George had a penchant for pranks and laughs, and I knew that Ronald had arachnophobia. I knew that Ginny was the first Weasley daughter in several generations and I also knew, as every pureblood did, that we were distantly related. All purebloods were related at the very least distantly, as there were only so many magical families around.

Once we arrived at the third floor I first showed Ron to his room, saying in a similar fashion what I had told Ginny about his belongings as he, along with his brothers, had brought none of it with him. Him being shy just nodded like his sister and tucked himself away in the room he'd been assigned. Next was the twins, which I knew would be more of a chore. "So tell me, Love. Where have you been all this time? No one told us that Sirius had a neice, or that there would be a charming young lady here." one started in, wrapping and arm around me.

"Charming indeed, and you certainly don't look young enough to be a first year, and are most deffinitely not a squib with that wand sticking out of your trousers." the other persisted.

"I'm not a squib, I'm rather gifted with charms and potions actually, and I'll have you know that I'm fifteen this August." I said, a bit of my Slytherin pride coming out in my manner of speaking. It wasn't that I was shy that kept me from socializing like most children my age, I just prefer to watch others and avoid the drama that more likely than not came with being a teenager.

"Oh, quick as a whip this one is Fred."

"An English accent is there too, so surely not a Beaux Batons student, so the question is why have we never seen you around before?" Fred asked.

"You're Gryffindors. I am not. I am a wallflower, and you are the center of attention." I said shortly.

"Bet she's a Ravenclaw, eh George?"

With a slightly annoyed glance between the two of them I obliged them to know my house. "Slytherin, actually." I said sounding a bit more snooty than I had intended. Quickly they unwrapped their arms from around me and walked into their room shutting the door hard behind them. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose between two fingers. "This is why I don't talk to people." I muttered alloud before walking off down the stairs to grab Kreature and ask of him to take the luggage to the rooms.


	2. Chapter 2

I went downstairs and into the kitchen where I knew Kreacher would be mopping, or cleaning something in a half assed fashion. He was much more dutiful when Father was still here, and now that Sirius was the man of the house, and his owner, he was much more rebellious and it was evident that Grandmother Walburga and her teachings had rubbed off onto him. He was just less vocal about his displeasure. Upon going through the door that separated the kitchen from the front hall, I saw that Kreacher was in fact hovering in a small corner, trying to look like he was doing something important. Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley were also there, as was Uncle. The men were sitting at the table and the lady was up and making what looked like tea and sandwiches.

With Authority in my voice I said, "Kreacher, could you take the luggage in the sitting room up to the owners respective rooms? You should know which ones go where."

"Yes Mistress Black." He said back to me, bowing before going to fulfill my wish. He, like Grandmother Walburga, greatly favoured me to Uncle Sirius. Kreacher had also picked up habits of referring to me as the mistress of the house, and spoke only to me in respectful tones. Uncle was the master of the house, but he didn't mind having the house elf and his mother treat me as such, as he didn't overly like to associate himself with the family anyway. But he loved me, and that's all that mattered.

"Thank you Kreacher." I said to him as he left, "Mrs. Weasley, is there anything I can do to aid you?" I offered. Ever the good little hostess and polite child that Grandmother and Father had raised.

"Heaven's no Child, please just take a seat!" She gushed, "Let me get you a spot of tea, you're looking a tad peaky."

Mindful of my elders I took a seat near Uncle, nodding my head in his direction, then in Mr. Weasley's direction. "Our guests have settled well in their respective rooms. Ginny on the second floor, and Ron, Fred and George on the third." I said to my uncle. "However I fear that I may have gotten off on the wrong foot with Fred and George." I said meekly. I wasn't one to be a tattle tale, but I told my uncle everything regardless of the circumstances.

"Now why would you think that, Rose?" Uncle inquired. Mr. Weasley was reading the Daily Prophet but you could tell that his, and his wife's, ears perked a bit at this part of the conversation.

"Well you see, we were getting acquainted and the topic of Hogwarts houses came up. Strange as it seems, they didn't seem too fond that I was in Slytherin. Although I can only imagine why that would be, we don't exactly have the best track record I would imagine and to them, my being a Black and all, they would see me as a Death Eater in training." I explained in a logical tone.

At the counter I heard Mrs. Weasley's preparing become harsher, and Mr. Weasley's grip on the paper became a tad strained. The woman turned around with a forced smile and open arms as if inviting me for a hug and said, "Now Dear, don't you work about what those boys of mine say. They don't know what they're talking about. You are a true diamond in the rough, you hear me? Just like your Uncle Sirius was." She said and pinched my cheek affectionately before handing me a plate with a sandwich and a cup of tea and directing me back towards the table. Once I sat down I started in on the small meal that had been prepared and instantly began looking forward to the rest of the summer. Mrs. Weasley's cooking far rivaled my own and Uncle's, and Kreacher's cooking was hardly anything to live on.

She smiled, taking note that I was enjoying the food before stepping out of the kitchen to call down her children. As the others came down the stairs and into the kitchen and everyone was served their lunch Mrs. Weasley sat down with her own helping and made sure to get everyone's attention for a moment. "Now, children I'd like you to enjoy the rest of today, as tomorrow we'll be helping clean the house from top to bottom. We are guests here, remember, and I would hate for us to seem rude to our hosts Sirius and his niece Carmine Rose." She said as she looked pointedly at the twins.

After the meal I took the scraps up to the attic where Uncle kept Buckbeak. This is what I spent most of my days doing during the summer, as I usually stayed at the school for the breaks throughout the year. If I wasn't with Buckbeak I was brewing potions, usually wolfsbane for Remus Lupin, as Uncle had advertised me to his school friend as a very talented potions mistress. He usually came by about a week before the full moon and stayed a day or two while I got his potion ready and we all caught up. Not that anything new ever happened here, Uncle was stuck in here unless he wanted to get thrown back into Azkaban or killed, and I had no friends or really anything else to do with my time other than keep my lonely uncle company.

Once dark had fallen on the house and I'd done spending time with the hippogriff in the attic I patted him a farewell and climbed down the ladder to the third floor. The house was all quiet except for the twins' room, which was also the only room still emitting light from under the door. I paid no mind to it, and walked into my own room, changing into my night clothes and crawling into bed for the night. I was just about asleep when my american kestrel, Hunter, started rapping on the window to get out. Lazily I slid out of bed and opened the window for him, "Don't forget to be back by morning, and don't get hunted." I said to him. He seemingly nodded, as if he understood me, and flew off. I'd gotten him as a gift from Father right before he vanished. Hunter was our last parting words in a way. Uncle escaped prison in the summer, and while Father and I were getting my school supplies in Diagon Alley he bought me the bird. This was the day before school was to start, and after he took me to the platform for the train I never saw or heard from him.

Even now thinking about him hurts, he was my father and I was very much a Daddy's Girl. He nearly spoiled me rotten, while still teaching me how to be a proper woman and have humility and be able to work. Contrary to popular belief, my father wasn't always a Death Eater and for that I am proud of him. He once was, yes, but he stood up to his master, and ran away. Part of why he chose to leave was because he knew that he couldn't give me a happy life, and still follow such a man, and also because he tried to kill Kreacher. This loyalty is part of why Kreacher is so loyal to me, and why he treats me so well.

My father was able to live out many years hiding in plain sight as I like to think of it. He would heavily disguise himself whenever he went out, but to my knowledge they never caught him. I hope they still hadn't, as I know what my father did when he left as well. With tears in my eyes I lay down in my bed once more, thinking back on the times I had with my father and before I knew it small, shallow sobs were escaping my throat as I longed to have him back with me.


	3. Chapter 3

I was usually one to sleep late in the mornings, so I knew right away that there was a problem when I awoke and out my window was still dark. Hunter was sitting on the window sill outside, calmly cleaning his feathers and ruffling them every so often. I sighed, I could just go back to sleep but then I wouldn't wake for hours longer. Pulling myself from the bed I noticed little else other than myself, the window and my bird. I was so out of it that I hardly noticed the string tied around my ankle. Funny, imagine what that would be doing there.

A moment later I knew that sleep would evade me for the remainder of the night, day, possibly week or longer. A shriek slipped through my lips as a rather large amount of a wet, gooey and thick substance fell seemingly out of nowhere and covered me head to toe. Paint. I froze, mouth wide open, and just a second later the light was snapped on. Normally I would be cross with the light being turned on so rapidly, and not having time to get used to it, but I was already more than awake. I looked down at my body and saw that I was covered in red. A quick glance around my room showed me how it was decorated in Gryffindor tapestries and banners. I glanced up, and a certain look was shared between my uncle and I. He too looked cross to be awoken in such a manner, and to find such a mess, but I highly doubt that he was as angered as I at this very moment. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley appeared at the door next and immediately looked crestfallen. They knew as well as anyone else that this was entirely the twins' doing.

A scowl presented itself on my face as I stood there, dumb founded and tried to make sense of what exactly warranted this treatment. Uncle came over, careful not to touch the substance and ushered me out of the room and into the bathroom on this floor. "There, there Rosie, we'll get you cleaned up in no time." He comforted me. I nodded mutely and got into the bathroom. Uncle shut the door behind me, staying outside in the hall. Gingerly I stripped myself of my clothes and got into the shower, turning the water on as hot as it would go. As the water cascaded down my slick skin and took the paint with it I sighed. This was already turning out to be a bad day. I washed the paint from my hair and skin before getting out of the shower. Some of my skin had been tinted a light pink from the red dye in the paint, and my usually dark maroon hair had more of a reddish tone to it also. I admitted defeat in trying to get off the paint that was, no doubt, charmed to stain and wrapped a towel around me. It wasn't one of those big, fluffy towels that you find in hotels, or that rich people had. No, we had some money to our name but not bunches of it. I liked to think of us as a normal family, therefore we had normal towels.

Wringing my hair of excess water I stepped out of the shower in the towel. Neither I nor my uncle had thought to bring clothes for me to change into, so I sufficed to run the way to my room as scantily clad as I was. With the way my luck was turning however, I should have expected an obstacle in my path. "Fred move." I said sternly. I clutched the towel around my body, hoping against all bloody hope that nothing was showing and that he would move.  
"Well now, for a Slytherin, you don't look half bad." He taunted. I had a feeling that this was going nowhere good.

"Fred, I advise you get out of my way." I said through clenched teeth. I'd be damned if he got the better of me, but he was really ticking me off.

"Now tell me, how are you sure that I'm not George? Why are you certain that I'm Fred?" he asked, a smirk on his face and a laugh in his eyes.

"It's not as though I've just met you yesterday you wanker, I've known you for the last five years. It's you who just met me Fred." I seethed trying with all my might to push him away from my door. I may have a slender build and be short, but I'll be damned if he shows me up just because he's a boy and is taller than me.

"Now, now let's not be so hasty. I thought we might talk a bit, get to know each other more. What do you say?"

"Don't you have a less annoying twin to be with? And get out of my way you fat arse!" I yelled finally getting the last push in that made him jump out of my way. I opened my door and turned around, he looked stunned that I was able to uproot him so fast. "I'm not the Slytherin Quidditch Beater for nothing you know." I stated before closing my door behind me. I dropped my towel and put on my knickers, following them with some blue jeans and a black tank top. I wrapped my Slytherin scarf around my neck and as I was putting socks on a pop sounded beside me. Without even looking I retorted to the intrusive sound, "Just because you can apparate does not give you unlimited access to my room Fred."

He started talking beside me but I decided not to listen to a word he said. Tuning him out I slipped on my converse shoes and walked out of my room and down the stairs. I could hear the sound of Fred's voice following me, but still paid no mind to it. Grandmother Walburga was still sound asleep in her portrait, so I passed by noiselessly as to not wake the entire house. Upon reaching the main floor I walked into the kitchen and started fixing myself some tea. The adults were again in the room, and Fred promptly shut up and sat down at the table. "Mrs. Weasley, do you by chance know where George is?" I asked politely, stirring in a lump of sugar and some cream in my tea.

"He'll still be in bed, Dear. Wonder that Fred is even up. Tell me, has he been bothering you?" she asked, shooting him a pointed look. I looked at Fred and he almost seemed to plead with his eyes not to tell her anything. I figured I could give him the satisfaction, and deal with him myself later.

"No, Mrs. Weasley. I just came across him on my way down the stairs." I lied smoothly, sitting down across from the prat.

"Oh, well that's good Dear, but please, call me Molly." I nodded in response and continued to sip my tea, staring at Fred. Fred, the right bloody wanker that couldn't give me a bloody moment's peace.


	4. Chapter 4

Once the sun rose, and it was an appropriate time to be up and about I went up again to visit Buckbeak. I could hear on the floor below me Fred and George being scolded for their actions and told that they would be cleaning the mess the muggle way. I snickered behind my hand at that, knowing that dried paint that stains was murder to try and clean. Justice was being served to a point, but I would still have to exact my revenge on Fred for my lost time of peace this morning. Most people would spend this time reading letters from their friends, responding to them, or such like that over the holidays. I did not. I didn't have any friends at school, as I've said before, I pride myself in my invisibility. I did spend this time reading one letter though. I still held on to my father's letters to me, every single one of them that he'd ever written. He always placed enchantments on them so that they wouldn't decay, and I was thankful for this. I carried them in a leather bound book, magically binding all the letters in. I didn't have this before, I only rectified this book after I found out about my father's disappearance.

I flipped through the pages, reading the letters one by one with my father's voice in my head reciting the words. At the end he signed R.A.B., his initials, in the lower right corner, in small print. He did this with all of his mail, but he never told me why. He would sign his name appropriately and add the initials, the family seal on the envelope. I always assumed it was family tradition, so I followed suit. I would sign my name, _Carmine Rose Black_, and then C.R.B. in the bottom right corner.

This reading usually took almost an entire day, there were so many letters. Tears would momentarily stain some, before the charms cleared them away, and my fingers would be littered with paper cuts by the time I was finished but it was always worth it just to hear his voice again. Once I finished reading, I allowed my fingers to linger on the last letter for a moment before I shut the book. On the cover was a picture of my father and I. It was taken when I was very young, during my first trip to Diagon Alley. Grandmother Walburga had taken the picture, we were both smiling and I was sitting on my knee, we were sharing an ice cream cone and he was tickling me. My hair had been up in pig-tails and there was innocence and excitement on my face that I knew would never exist again. Then again, who isn't innocent when they're just barely four years old? The photograph brought another set of tears to my eyes, this time the sobs were more violent. I hardly heard the hatch leading up to the attic open, but I soon felt the arms of my uncle wrap around me, comforting my pain.

"I just miss him so much Uncle, I don't even know if he's alive or if he's ok!" I sobbed into his chest as he hugged me, and ran his fingers through my long, maroon hair. It always did soothe me when people did that, and when he did it, it reminded me of when Father used to brush my hair every night before bed without fail. It was hard for me to adjust to Hogwarts without him, I had too much pride to ever admit to it but I missed the simple gesture and the bond that we had.

Some time later, after I'd calmed down enough to just the odd sniffle and single tear we broke apart. He'd held me the whole time, like every other time I'd broken down around him. He looked at me without a word, just a smile and patted my shoulder before climbing back through the hatch and onto the third floor. I sighed out loud to myself, Buckbeak was asleep, he'd passed out some time during my break down. A moment passed and I followed Uncle Sirius through the hatch. He'd already cleared the floor, and I'd no idea where he'd gone but that was beside the point. What mattered was that I'd missed all meals today, and I'd worn myself out emotionally.

I climbed down the stairs without taking notice to much of anything, Grandmother Walburga was otherwise preoccupied, and there was really no one between here and the kitchen. My vision was still blurry and my eyes stung from the tears that I'd shed. I knew that they would be puffy and red, and my face would be blotchy. I was never an attractive crier, and not even time could change that. My hands rubbed furiously at my face and eyes trying to rid it of the red spots, but it was futile as I noticed when I looked in a mirror in the front foyer. I sighed discontentedly and pushed my way through the kitchen door none the less, my hunger getting the better of me.

It was late and most people weren't in here anymore, the majority of the children had retired to bed. All that was left awake was myself, my uncle, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and the twins. Usually I don't care much for other people's opinions about me, but rather than face certain ridicule for the rest of the summer I hid my unattractive face from the twin's view.

"Oh Carmine, I was wondering when you were going to show up for a bite of food!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "You know, a young woman like you, you should never miss out on a meal. You're just skin and bones!" She muttered, sounding very motherly as she put together a plate for me from the supper left overs. I remained silent, not wanting to interrupt her ramblings. "No matter, I'll have you all straightened out by the end of summer. Now here you go, Deary. I gave you an extra-large serving to make up for missing breakfast and lunch as well." Molly said, setting down a heaping plate in front of me.

"Thank you Mrs. Weasley, very much." I said gratefully, smiling up at her.

"Oh now, now Dear, it's Molly, remember?" she reminded with a kind smile on her face.

I nodded simply before deciding place in which to start in concurring the mound of food. I knew already that I would never finish it all, but I didn't want to put good food to waste, or insult Molly. Light conversation picked up around me, and as I ate I ran through a mental checklist of things that I would need to do soon. I knew that the full moon was coming up, so I would need to brew another batch of wolfsbane. I would also have to check my ingredient stores and go shopping soon to replenish my supplies.

Soon I became lost in thought of what needed to be done, and in what order. When I could find time to do certain things. I rose from my thoughts and knew that it was days like this when I wished I didn't still have the trace on me. I could do magic whenever, and I would be so much more free to do as I pleased. Looking down I noticed that the vast majority of my food was gone and had the sudden realization of being absolutely stuffed. I wasn't sure that I'd ever eaten so much in one sitting before, and the prospect was slightly daunting.

I looked around to see that the adults had all retired to their beds now, and all that remained was myself, George and Fred. I had no reason to hide anymore, as my face no longer felt heated and I'm sure was no longer blotching though. So I looked them in the eyes. I was prepared to confront them, and I knew that after this my summer could very easily go one way or the other. After all, just because I'm a wallflower, doesn't mean that I'm shy.


	5. Chapter 5

"Is there a particular reason that you're staring at me as though I'm your science project?" I inquired as I stood before the boys.

"Why haven't you attacked anyone or thrown a fit over us being here yet?" Started George.

"It's not as though your mind set towards us is hidden. It is quite common knowledge that Slytherin's see us as unworthy blood traitors." Fred.

"And just think, what would your pure blooded friends think about a bunch of Weasleys living with you. I'm sure they'd be ashamed and disgusted." Finished George.

I kept my calm, and simply looked at them with a straight face. "Most of my house mates don't know I exist, to start with so why would I care what they think about me?" I saw them go to say something else, but I cut them off, "And also, before you go saying anything else. Do you both share all the same ideals as your parents? How about your grandparents? I don't think so. While I may love my grandmother, she does not decide for me how I live. And contrary to popular belief my father was a good man. Sure he strayed away from the right path now and again but we all make mistakes. You hear!" I ranted. "You do not insult my father by assuming such despicable things about myself or him." I finished. I was so worked up by this time that I was breathing heavily, and knew that I'd gotten a blush over the bridge of my nose. With a huff I whirled around and stormed up the stairs to the third floor and into my room.

Frustrated beyond belief and missing my father I lit a scented candle and lay on my bed. There were still things to do, but I had to clear my head before I attempted anything.

I heard birds chirping and smelled food early the next morning waking me from my slumber. Looking to my bedside I saw that the candle had burned itself out, but hadn't made a mess which I was glad for. I couldn't believe I was so foolish to fall asleep after I had just lit a fresh candle. How stupid of me! I mentally scolded myself as I pushed the remainder of the candle into the waste bin beside my desk and began to get changed into fresh clothes for the day. Thinking back I remembered that I had made a mental list of things I would be needing to do soon.

After putting on fresh undergarments and jeans I browsed through my shirts for one that would keep me warm as the house seemed a tad colder than usual today. After a few minutes ruffling through my various tops I decided on a knit long sleeved sweater with a pronounced V neck line. I slipped on the pewter colored top, and pulled the long hem down over the top of my dark wash jeans, the sleeves ending a little past my wrists. Turning, I walked to the direct other side of my room and opened a pantry-style cupboard that was flush with the wall. Inside were my various potions ingredients and on the bottom shelf was a cubby holding all of my books containing potions instructions and my copper cauldron.

Without a second glance I grabbed the book that I knew held the Wolfsbane potion directions and absentmindedly flipped to the correct page. My stores looked fairly depleted since last summer, but I suppose things do go bad over time. Kreature usually went through my room once completely before I returned home from school to ensure that it was in top shape for me, including discarding of any ingredients that had gone obviously bad in my absence. The gesture never went unappreciated, as some things do tend to get a trifle potent in stench after a while and there were just some things that you didn't want to come home to.

I went through the ingredients for the specific potion realizing that I would have just enough for one batch, but rather to air on the side of caution I decided I would go shopping today. I grabbed a quill and some spare parchment and firstly wrote down all of the ingredients that I would need for the wolfsbane. Once that was done I examined my stores closer to see if anything else of great importance was missing, and wrote down the necessary ingredients that were either severely depleted or all together gone. I knew my cauldron was in good shape as it had come home from school with me, and I knew that I didn't need any new books but decided that I might as well pick one up if it appealed to me.

Folding the parchment and tucking it away in my jeans pocket I slipped on my knee high boots, shoving my wand down the side of them so it was well concealed. I left my room and closed the door behind me tightly in hopes that I could leave right after eating and no one would enter my space.

Once I was down the two flights of stairs and entering the kitchen I saw that I was almost late for breakfast for once. I was by no stretch a morning person, but this was late for me. A quick glance at the clock told me it was nearing 11:00am and with so many people in the house it was a pure miracle I hadn't been woken earlier. However I knew full well that had it been just my uncle and I, I may well have not been up for another hour. I small pink blush crept its way into my cheeks as I settled in a chair by Ginny Weasley. She didn't seem the talkative type, so I felt blessed that I wouldn't have to make awkward conversation over a meal that was growing colder. As per usual my uncle and Arthur were at the head of the table reading the paper and drinking tea. A quick look around the table reassured me that no one was looking at me strangely and that everyone was minding their own business happily. A miniscule sigh of relief escaped my lips and I leaned forward to spoon some of the scrambled eggs onto my plate and grab a few slices of toast. The pickings were slim, but I didn't mind in the least as just eggs and toast seemed a perfectly fine brunch to me. Some seasonings and condiments and my plate was ready to be eaten when Uncle Sirius deemed it a good time to talk to me.

"So, Rosie, any plans for today?" He asked idly. He knew that I couldn't sit still for too long and the last few days I'd done nothing really; I was long overdue for some form of activity.

"Yes Uncle, I have to run into Diagon Alley and replenish my stores. The full moon will be upon us shortly and I'd best be prepared." I answered cordially.

"Best pick up everything you'll need then, I've been into the potions since Christmas and we could do with some more pepper-up potion, and I'm sure a few healing potions wouldn't hurt." He bantered back knowing full well I'd already devised a list of things I planned on getting.

Slightly annoyed at having forgotten to check those stores as well, I nodded and tried to think of the ingredients of each potion he'd requested before giving up and deciding to make the trek to the potions cupboard and then back up to my room after I'd finished eating.

"Would I be able to go into Diagon Alley as well Mum? I wouldn't mind some time to myself." Ginny said from her chair feebly. Her voice wasn't quiet or loud, and wasn't particularly confident or strong sounding either and for half a moment I wondered why she'd been sorted into Gryffindor before giving my head a mental shake.

"Well Dear, I'm not sure—" Molly started before Uncle butted in.

"Nonsense Molly, let the girl go. You mustn't all always clean to earn your room and board, you needn't ear it at all!" Uncle exclaimed jocosely in his ever present haunting yet merry tone.

"Oh all right, would it be alright if she went with you Carmine?" Molly asked begrudgingly.

"Sure, it's no problem at all as long as she doesn't mind my ingredient and book shopping." I responded not looking up from my meal.

"What about us Mum"

"Can we go too?" The twins.

"Boys, you're still grounded from that prank you pulled. The answer is no." Molly said without having to think.

I finished my plate and put it in the sink where Molly was washing dishes. "Thank you for breakfast Molly, it was delicious." I said to her, "And Ginny, I'll be leaving just as soon as I know everything that I'll need, so probably in about ten minutes if that's alright with you?" I offered. She nodded and excused herself before disappearing into, I assume, her room to get ready.

After compiling a small list of the potions we needed I made the trek upstairs and had just started double checking and revising my ingredients list when a pop sounded behind me.

"You know, we do intend to go either way." Fred said behind me, leaning against my bed post.

"You do know your mother will skin you alive if I tell her you're bothering me." I stated in response.

"I think it might just be worth it. I mean, I wouldn't mind knowing just why you ended up in Slytherin anyway. You don't seem to act the type other than you're goody mannerisms."

"Yes well there is more to a book than just its cover you know, but I'm sure you've never seen past the title page of one before." I retorted making a mock insult at his intelligence, a smirk setting itself on my face.

"Forgive me, your highness, for having a social life unlike yourself." He commented snidely. I could almost hear the sneer in his voice, which made my smirk ever more present.

Finishing my list I turned to face him, "Why would I want a social life if it means wasting time with useless, meaningless people?" my Slytherin rudeness coming out a little more. "I'll be leaving now." I said before he could go and turned on the spot walking out of the room and down the stairs into the sitting room where Ginny was waiting patiently for me. I nodded in her direction before grabbing a good amount of floo powder and stepping into the unlit fireplace shouting "Diagon Alley" in a commanding voice. I closed my eyes until I reached my destination and stepped out with the grace of a high society woman, list in pocket; wand in boot and key in pocket.


	6. Chapter 6

I waited at the Leaky Cauldron for Ginny to step through the fireplace and when she did I nodded to her and began walked towards Gringott's to withdraw from my account. The entire trip she made no move to talk, and neither did I so we travelled, her behind me, in silence through the crowds.

Once we reached the large goblin bank I stepped up to the main desk and cleared my throat to get some attention from the rude creatures. "I would like to make a withdrawal from vault one hundred and thirty. The Black family vault." I stated clearly. I was the sole heir to the Black dynasty and the only person that could access this vault at the moment.

"Does Miss Black have her key with her this morning?" he asked.

I reached into my pocket and produced the vault key, handing it over to him. The journey down to the vault was nothing special, I grabbed a small handful of galleons and some knuts and sickles to last for the trip and then we returned to the surface. It was noon by the time we left the bank and Ginny was still just as quiet. Perhaps had I been a tad more social of a person I would have tried to make conversation with her, but I enjoyed the silence between us.

I maneuvered us between the crowds of people to get to Slug & Jiggers Apothecary, the only place in Diagon Alley that carried potions ingredients other than the peddlers and vendors between shops. . I revelled in the cool store as I picked out the ingredients I needed and placed them into a bag. Being that it was almost late June now it was quite warm out, and I had come dressed for the cold home I lived in and was boiling outside.

Once I was finished I paid the clerk for the supplies and went outside. Ginny was almost nonexistent, she never talked or really left my side. I suppose she had just wanted to get out of the house for a bit, and hadn't really come here with much purpose. As we wandered through the streets I was just about to think that Fred had bluffed about coming to Diagon Alley, when a pair of hands were placed over my eyes. "Guess who." The irritatingly familiar voice said from behind me, very close to my ear. I could faintly hear Ginny giggling a bit  
behind me.

"Must you always come to ruin my mood?" I questioned the twin as I removed his hands from my eyes and turned around to face him. He was rather close, and George was standing over by his sister, leaning on her jokingly. "Fred, I hope you know we were just on our way back."

"Nonsense, make a day out of the trip!" he insisted.

"My supplies will go bad in this heat." I said flatly, moving to turn around before his hand reached out and grasped my wrist effectively holding me in place. Before I could say a word he had apparated us into my room, and cast a muffliato spell. "There, you can ditch the stuff and come along with me."

I began putting away my things in the correct places. "Why should I trust you? You've been just short of vile to me your whole visit."

"Because you seem different, and I want to know why that blasted hat had to put you in Slytherin." He said pleadingly.

"Well, I suppose a Lady shouldn't refuse when a gentleman asks." I muttered under my breath. "Fine, I'll go, but you have to leave or something so I can change. It's much warmer out than I anticipated." I said.

"Well seeing as my Mum has the impression that George and I are in our rooms and not to come out until dinner, I think it best if I just turn around while you change." He offered.

"And how will I be sure you're not looking?" I questioned with a hint of mistrust.

"I will give you my word."

I groaned and motioned for him to turn around as I made my way to my wardrobe. From it I pulled a summer dress with short sleeves, a V neck with a fitted bodice that flared out into a flowing skirt that stopped an inch or two above my knee. Taking a peek over my shoulder at the tall red-head behind me I reassured myself that he still wasn't watching and quickly changed my outfits. I sat on my bed pulling on my boots again and called "You can turn around now."

Fred turned around and looked almost stunned at the pale blue dress I had on, which complimented my eyes well. "Right, let's get this show on the road" he offered smirking, offering his arm in a mock gentlemanly gesture. I took it after making double sure that my wand was in my right boot and closed my eyes, waiting for the tug behind my navel. Surely this had to be a bad idea… right?


	7. Chapter 7

In a moment we were standing back in Diagon Alley, exactly where we'd been minutes before we had gone back to the house. I looked around confused, noticing that a few individuals had gone missing in our absence. "Where are Ginny and George?" I questioned the sly Weasley.

"Probably headed home, or in Gambol and Japes." He replied shortly.

I looked down where my hand was still resting in the crook of his arm. In a single motion he moved the arm and swung it around my shoulders pulling me closer to him. "And where, pray tell, do you plan to go now? I've already finished my shopping." I stated as we walked down the street.

"Oh, I figured we could stop in at Gambol and Japes, and then Flourish and Blotts and then before we head back we could collaborate our story over a butter beer."

"What is this, your excuse for a date?" I asked before catching myself and quickly regrouping. "It sounds like a wonderful afternoon, we'd best get going though if we hope to be home before sun set."

Fred grinned and steered us toward the joke shop. It was clear that he'd actually thought about our activities seeing as we were doing something each of us would enjoy. Upon entering the shop which was, as Fred put it "not nearly as good as Zonko's" we saw George without Ginny. For a moment I got worried, knowing that she was my responsibility for the day. It had to have shown on my face however, because an explanation soon followed.

"I took Gin home, she's going to cover for us for the rest of the afternoon." George said before he put his arm around my other shoulder. Between the tall twins on either side of me, I was sure that my short stature seemed even shorter.

The three of us spent an hour or two in the joke shop, them demonstrating products for me and trying to make me laugh (succeeding on occasion) and me just being dragged around by them. The odd time something would catch my eye I would take a gander at it, and then when they noticed my attention was stolen from them they would use the item in question to regain my attention.

In the middle of the afternoon we exited the store, the two jokers on either side of me and our arms looped together. I'm sure we made a sight for sore eyes, as they both bore grins from ear to ear and my dimples were showing with the odd giggle as they cracked jokes back and forth. From Gambol and Japes we headed to Flourish and Blotts so that I could immerse my studious and book loving self in some literature while Fred and George did Lord knows what.

Upon entering the library-like store I was overcome with a sense of calmness. The smell of old parchment and new books filled my lungs and I took a deep breath before ploughing forward with a small smile on my face. First I checked the supplies for any new potions books, and then the section on magical beasts. Once I had satisfied my need to check for logic based books I moved over to the fictional section, where I would find books on mythology and entertainment novels. Throughout my scavenging I was so enveloped in the task at hand I hardly noticed the one twin who periodically looked up from his own literature findings to rest his gaze on me. Nor did I notice how whenever the first twin did so, after a moment the second would indiscreetly elbow him in the ribs to bring him out of his day dreams. Shocking for someone who's favorite pass-time is people watching and always being aware of their surroundings.

Once I was satisfied with the few books I allowed myself to get I paid for my spoils and retrieved the red headed boys who were talking over a few books about muggle items. I paid no mind, having gathered from passing conversation and eaves dropping that their father had more than a fleeting interest in muggle items, and assumed that the interest had conveyed into a few of his offspring to some varying degree.

After collecting the boys we made our way back to the Leaky Cauldron where I would take the floo network home, and they would apparate. Seeing as the un was beginning to lower in the sky, and soon the blues of the overhead sky would become pastel pinks, purples and oranges we decided to skip the aforementioned beverage and head straight home. Molly would soon be looking for us for supper, and I'm positive the boys absence was pushing the limit already if it had not already become discovered.

A small wave to the men I'd spent the majority of my afternoon with and I stepped into the fireplace and took the necessary amount of floo powder. I said the destination quietly, rather than shouting like it is recommended, in hopes that no one was listening in close enough to hear. There were, after all, wards on the house and if I'm not mistaken, the fidellius charm as well.

In my left hand was my bag of books and my right holding down the skirt of my sundress. I flashed through the network and stepped out almost gracefully at the house. It was a miracle I hadn't fallen earlier today while flooing, but now was apparently a different story. I only took one step out of the fireplace before stepping on the small wedge heel of my boot the wrong way, twisting my ankle and falling to the floor in a heap. Seeing that I was going to fall further out than usual, and I was about to crack my head on the edge of the coffee table I held out my right arm and brought my bag of books in closer to my body. A high pitched screech escaped my lips and the impact came.

I was laying on the floor unaware of what happened, only knowledgeable of the excruciating pain shooting up my right arm. Bodies soon flooded into the sitting room and I hoped that my dress hadn't risen up to reveal anything scandalous. Still holding my books close to my body I attempted to use my right arm to push myself upright so I could stand, but found that I couldn't move my arm. A groan of pain was emitted and I looked up to see blood pooling in my hand and bruising starting to appear all along my forearm. I tried pulling my arm back, but was unable to do even that.

A cry of agony escaped my lips while my face retorted in pain. I heard Molly pushing her way through the house's patrons. My uncle had to be upstairs with Buckbeak seeing as he hadn't attended to me yet. "Move out of the way, give her some air!" Molly demanded as she came to my side. I looked up to her to see her face contorted in worry and sympathy. A few tears escaped my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. She took in a shaky breath, "Just hang on a minute Deary, let me go get something to clean you off with." She said before rushing away into the kitchen. A look to the entrance of the room showed that Ron and Ginny had crowded through the door.

Before Molly acme back in Fred and George came rushing down the stairs, "What happened?" George exclaimed. Fred just looked shocked.

"Took a right nasty fall coming out of the fireplace. Hit her arm on the coffee table there. It was almost her head though." Ron explained.

Molly rushed back into the sitting room with a bowl of water and a clean cloth. "Someone go get Sirius, quickly" she said to the children as she started wiping away the blood from my hand in an attempt to get a good look at the damage. Whimpers escaped my lips as she did, and I vaguely heard a light set of footsteps running up the stairs. Ginny had left to get Uncle Sirius. A pop in the entrance hallway signified that Arthur was back from work. The commotion all became too much, too soon and my sight and hearing started going fuzzy.

I knew that I couldn't go to St. Mungos because I would be shipped out into a foster home until I was of age, so I wasn't sure how my arm was going to be repaired. It was now that I lost unconsciousness, and the last thing that I remember seeing was the blurry image of my uncle's face leaning over me, speaking words I couldn't hear with a very prominent look of worry and fear written on his face. After that, everything was black and quiet.


	8. Chapter 8

I awoke to the sound of screaming. An elderly lady called out "Help… Help… Help!" In a daze I rubbed at my eyes with my left hand in a fist and tried to push myself up in the disastrously uncomfortable bed I had been asleep in. My clothes felt stiff and scratchy against my skin, and baggy… much too large for my stature. A small breeze hit my back that I noticed was bare and the confusion set in. "What in the world…" I said to myself. Opening my eyes I couldn't recognise the place I was in. There were white walls with a small and almost unnoticeable pattern on the wallpaper, and curtains everywhere segmenting me from whatever else was in the room.

"Oh, good that you're up Dear. How are you feeling?" Molly asked from my side. I turned to see her knitting the muggle way, sitting in what looked to be an uncomfortable chair.

"Tired and confused. Uhm… where am I?" I asked shyly, not sure how I could phrase the question without sounding rude.

"Well after your fall we didn't have much time to debate about where to take you. We couldn't very well have you at St. Mungo's where you could have been taken, and there were no healers that we could ask over. We had to bring you to a muggle hospital dear."

"Oh…" I said and ran my fingers through my hair. A few strands fell in front of my face and I noticed something that wasn't quite right at all. Panicked I grabbed a handful of my long hair and held it in front of me. "It's red!" I whisper-shouted in horror. I loved my dark hair, it was the only true likeness of my father in me.

Molly placed her hand on my arm gently, "Sorry Dear, but in case anyone came asking we had to have an alibi. We've magicked your hair red, and the doctors think you're Ginny. You're posing as her until you're recovered in case they find out your father is missing and want to put you in an orphanage." She said quietly. Should anyone over hear the plan would be a failure, so until I was home I would have to get used to being "Ginny Weasley".

"Oh, well I appreciate you're looking out for me and awareness of the situation. Thank you, Molly." I said to her half-heartedly with a small smile.

Now I took the time to survey the damage. Looking down a mass of white engulfed my forearm, there were several bandages around my hand and I could feel something wrapped tight around my shoulder making it even more difficult to move my right arm. Bandages also wrapped my ankle tightly, the one I had twisted, and just looking at all of my injuries made me a touch lightheaded.  
"Molly… or Mum, sorry?" I called quietly. "What's wrong with me?" I asked nervously. I almost didn't want to hear.

"You broke your forearm, dislocated your right arm from your shoulder entirely, sprained your ankle badly and busted up your hand quite badly. The corner of the coffee table punctured the skin in the middle and went straight through and injured some muscle and ligaments. It's going to be a while before you can use that hand again."

"How… how long before we can go home?" a timid voice I wasn't aware I had said.

She put her knitting down, "The doctor should be coming by soon to check up on you, we can ask him then." She patted my good arm and got up. "I'll go see where abouts he is now."

"Thank you, Mum." I called, still now sure how I liked calling her such a name. Albeit, now that I think about it she was quite similar to my birth mother. Both had red hair, and a very nurturing, motherly instinct. Mrs. Weasley was Molly, my mother was Melinda. Now that I thought about it they were similar, in looks, personality and physical appearances.

I put the thought out of my mind and looked up as a taller man, perhaps in his forties dressed in a medical uniform. "Hi Ginny, I'm your doctor. Dr. Jacobson." I said and came over to check my shoulder and my ankle. "That was a pretty nasty fall you took." He commented idly as he looked. I simply nodded, not one to talk much as I had mentioned before. Once he finished looking me over he asked a few standard questions, "How are you feeling today?"

"I'm feeling fine thank you."

"Any pain at all anywhere?"

"No, none Dr. Jacobson."

"You remember the event clearly?"

"Yes, every detail." I provided him with the best answers I could and offered a smile when necessary.

"Well you seem to be recovering fine to me. But you'll have to use your right arm as little as possible until the cast is off, and perhaps a little longer. All depending on how your arm, hand and shoulder are healing of course. I would recommend no writing until you can flex and close your fist without any pain, and the puncture wound is completely healed over."

"Yes, of course. When will I be able to go home?" I asked politely, trying to think of how I would get everything done without the use of my right hand and arm.

"If you're feeling up to it, you can leave as soon as you're ready. I'll bring up the discharge papers for you to fill out Mrs. Weasley and then you can go." He supplied with a smile looking at myself and Molly.

Molly pulled out some clothes for me and handed them to me to get dressed. She then stepped outside the curtains after a grateful nod from myself and I tried to dress myself. Upon further inspection I noted that the outfit was a loose fitting blouse and a pair of long, fitted jean shorts. With plenty of difficulty I shimmied my bummed arm into the short sleeve and then finished the rest of the task which was nearly as difficult.

A sigh of relief escaped my lips once I was finally done, my shorts and shirt on and my feet in my normal boots. I noticed that my wand was nowhere to be found and panicked shortly before remembering that this was a muggle hospital, and it would have been left at the house. I stood from the bed, not overly wobbly on my sprained ankle but a small amount of pain was there, and pulled aside the curtains to see Molly filling out some paperwork and talking to the doctor. "I'm ready to go Mum." I said quietly.

"Ah, Ginny right on time. I've just about finished and Dr. Jacobson was just telling me about some exercises you might want to do to strengthen your arm." Molly said kindly.

I looked at the doctor and listened to what he had to say, I would most likely remember it and if not I could just look up something in a book. Once everything was said and done we walked out of the hospital and onto the street. It was a nice, sunny day out, and was a nice comfortable temperature. "Come on Dear, the house is just down here. We'll walk and enjoy the weather." Molly offered me a smile and I returned it, walking by her side.

We walked in silence and after roughly ten minutes arrived in front of where I knew the house was. Molly looked sharply down the road either way and made sure no one was looking before the entrance appeared and we scurried inside before anyone could have a peek. When we were inside she shut the door and I adjusted the sling around my arm, holding it in place, and checked the bandages on my hand for blood.

Molly slid past me in the narrow hallway and called out, "Kids? We're home!"


	9. Chapter 9

Looking up I heard the padding of feet on the floor. It wasn't rushed, just a single set of lazy feet trudging down the steps. Paying no mind to whomever was coming down we made our way into the kitchen. "I assume you're hungry, right Dear?" Molly said as she tied an apron around her waist and peeked back for my answer. Truthfully I wasn't feeling very peckish at all but I didn't want to offend her kind offer so I supplied a small smile and a quick nod. Molly grinned, turning around and began bustling about the pantries and the refrigerator. One could tell quite easily that this was where she felt most comfortable, and what she really loved to do.

As Molly did her thing I started twirling a lock of red hair between my fingers of my good hand. A dull ache gnawed at my conscience that this wasn't right. A bit of pureblood pride bit me, making me despise the hair. I was after all, rightfully a Black. It was in my blood to have dark hair, not a single Black has ever had another color. A grimace stained my face momentarily and I dropped the lock of hair as though it were poisonous. Forcing myself to relax my face, I faked a pleasant smile. Looking up I saw that a large pot of soup had been placed on the stove top and was starting to steam gentle, and a heaping pile of sandwiches lay on a plate not far away.

The doors to the kitchen burst open and in came Ron. He took a seat across from me, and offered a sad smile. "How are you feeling?" He inquired.

"I'm feeling fine thanks, just a touch of pain when I shift my right arm too far but I suppose that's to be expected." I lied. Truth was it hurt a bit more than that, but I wasn't about to burden anyone with sympathy for me.

He supplied a small smile again, but our conversation was cut off by Molly. "Ron, set the table, could you?"

"Sure Mum." He replied before getting up and grabbing an arm load of bowls, a handful of spoons and a small stack of side plates for the sandwiches. As he shakily walked around the table setting each of the places the look of concentration on his face was evident. The bowls wobbled precariously, and the plates shivered against one another. Clumsily the lanky boy completed the task though, and sat down again across from me wiping a few drops of sweat from his brow.

"Sorry I couldn't help." I said with a reassuring smile.

"No, that's alright. You shouldn't have to do all the work." He said lightly. He smiled and looked awkwardly into my deep grey eyes. I knew that without Harry and Hermione here he was probably just about to go stir-crazy. He didn't seem much of a leader unless forced into the roll so I assumed that thus far he'd been wandering around aimlessly trying to follow shadows and dust in the places of his friends.

Molly came over to the table and started ladling the soup from the large pot into the bowls. "Thank you Ron."

As she did so the twins barged through the door and took a seat on either side of me, Fred on my left and George on my right. "Hello Carmine," George said.

"Nice to see you around again." Fred continued.

"Hello to you as well boys." I said, keeping my face down and looking intently into my bowl of soup.

Ginny and Uncle Sirius walked into the kitchen, taking their seats and then Molly took the last plated seat. It was a weekday so Arthur wouldn't join us as he was at the Ministry. Silently everyone took a seat and began to eat their lunch. Through the meal, no one said a word and I never looked up from my bowl and plate. Embarrassment crept through my being as I thought of how clumsy I must have looked. My dominant arm was out of commission, and I was in no sense of the word "ambidextrous". Heat flooded my face as I'm sure my cheeks were stained a vibrant pink. Thankfully though, no one commented on my pitiful performance.

Once I'd had enough of struggling to do something as mundane as eating I dropped the spoon into the bowl and piled it all on the mostly empty plate. I'd barely made it halfway through my food, but everyone else was finished or almost so. I mumbled an apology and left the table dropping my dishes on the counter. Determination flooded through me and I had the urge to do something for myself; I just simply couldn't be helpless.

Noisily I clambered up the stairs, my ankle throbbing from the excess pressure. Not halfway up the first flight I found myself having to lean on the wall to my left and pulling myself up with my good arm. My steps rang out loudly, but no one had come to help me, or stop me. For this I was thankful, I had to know how helpless I was. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I thought of how I could possibly live if I had to depend on others for everything. Then came the anger, and my footsteps became louder on the stairs, stomping with great force.

Eventually I made it to my room, I was tired but the adrenaline still pushed me. I flung open the doors to my potions cabinet one at a time. They both slammed violently against the wall. With great force I yanked my cauldron from its shelf and dropped it in the middle of the room. Tears flowed freely down my face now, as I grabbed as many ingredients as I could. I didn't know what I was grabbing, nor did I care. They too were thrown on the floor as I grabbed my knife, mortar and pestle and fell to the ground which was now filthy.

I shoved a dry grassy substance into the mortar and tried to grind it with the pestle but it kept falling over; I tried to slice and squish some bean-like ingredients but only succeeded in cutting my left hand. In a short fit of rage I threw the knife down and knocked the mortar and pestle far away. My body huddled into a fetal position as best it could in the middle of the room, my mess before me. All that was heard were my choked out sobs and heaves of air. My vision was blurred beyond recognition, and I lost touch of everything around me. I was just too independent to rely on others… especially not this much. It would be a direct blow to my pride, and my self-conscious. A blow that I knew would take time to recover from.

It was in this instance of my breakdown that I knew my physical wounds would without a doubt heal. But the mental scars would take much longer to deal with.


	10. Chapter 10

I must have passed out because I awoke in my bed, my uncle by my side. The mess was cleaned from the floor, and everything was in its right place. I pushed myself up with my left arm, and sat up. A small peek at my uncle was all it took to see the pity in his eyes, and sadness on his face. Shamefully I looked away from him and sighed. My right arm was tight to my chest, the sling holding it in place and the cast digging into my ribs just a bit.

"It's alright to need help, Rosie." He said, putting a hand on my shoulder for comfort. A moment later he left the room, neither of us were very wordy people, and silent strength and comfort was our best suit.

Scooting back on my bed I leaned against the headboard so I wasn't straining my back. I was numb to emotion and feeling at this point, so when I tilted my head forward in defeat and a few strands of still red hair fell in front of my face it hardly phased me at all. For a while I just sat there. I didn't fidget, I didn't think, I just sat.

At some point Molly came in and sat a cup of broth and a sandwich on my bedside table, she offered a smile but I didn't react. She left as quickly as she came, leaving the food behind for me to eat when I was hungry. After my last performance with food I was too disgusted with myself to bother trying again.

Hours more must have passed and my stomach gnawed at my will. I was hungry, but I refused the embarrassment of not being able to feed myself. The door cracked open and one of the twins poked his head in. He stood up straight and opened the door all the way to allow himself in. Awkwardly he shoved his hands into his pockets and sauntered over to my bed. I didn't bother to look up at him, just stared straight ahead, straight faced as I had been all day. "What do you want, Fred?" I asked quietly.

He took a seat on my left side and grabbed my hand in his, rubbing it with his thumb. "How do you always know it's me?" he asked quietly.

"It's quite easy to tell," I started, looking up at him with the smallest of smiles on my face, "you have different facial expressions. Some that are characteristically George, and others that are simply… Fred. You both have different personalities too, you're more the instigator; George is more grounded." I explained looking him in the eye.

"You know…" he said, raising a hand to my cheek, "Not even our mother can tell us apart that well." He whispered.

"I suppose it's a gift, something I picked up from observing all these years." I muttered, a small blush on my face. This was the most contact I'd had with a boy in probably all my life, and it made me a touch nervous.

Fred blushed faintly before pulling his hands away from me. He cleared his throat as he grabbed his wand from his pocket and held it firmly. "Sorry, but talking to you with red hair just doesn't feel right." He muttered an incantation and I felt a small heat start at my scalp. It soon left, and traveled down the strands of hair turning them back to my natural deep maroon color as they went. He smiled brightly, "That's better."

"Thank you, I was growing to miss my hair. I'm very attached to the color, you see." I said and trailed off.

"Why's that?" he inquired.

"Because it's one of the last things that I have of my father's. Other than my hair I look nearly identical to my mother…"

"Well your mother must have been very beautiful then." He complimented, and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

A blush flooded my face turning my cheeks and the bridge of my nose pink. "She was, in pictures at least." I paused. "She died giving birth to me."

Fred stayed silent, and I decided that I could open up to him. "Up until Sirius escaped it was just me and my dad. I don't remember my Grandmother very well, she passed too when I was young. The last time I saw my father was on the platform. He had dropped me off and by the time I was settled in a compartment and the train started rolling he was gone. I hadn't even a chance to wave goodbye." I said. Tears fell down my face, and I tried to wipe them away with my left hand but they just kept coming. "I haven't heard from him since that day… and all I have left of him is the letters he wrote me, the kestrel he bought me, the color of his hair and a few pictures."

Fred wrapped an arm around me securely, trying to comfort me. We just stayed like that for the longest time, until my silent tears stopped falling, and I had once again come to terms with my father's disappearance. I was just about to wipe my eyes when a finger slipped under my chin and tilted my head up to look Fred in the eyes. He took his thumb and wiped away the tears awkwardly.

For a long moment we just stared at each other like that… his arms around me and my face so close to his. We were brought out of the moment by my stomach growling, reminding me of the broth and sandwich on my bedside table. Fred peaked around me and saw that the food was untouched. He frowned a bit and stood up walking around to the other side of my bed and grabbing it. "Why didn't you eat?" He asked me.

My expression turned hard again and I looked away from his face. "Because as you saw at lunch, I can hardly feed myself as it is. It's stupid that I can't do something as simplistic as feeding myself, and it's downright embarrassing." I muttered through clenched teeth.

He sat down beside me again with the food in hand. He placed the plated sandwich on the bed and magicked the broth hot again. "Please try and eat some?" I said nothing, still refusing to look at him. "For me?" still nothing. He sighed, frustrated. "For your father then. You know he wouldn't want to see you like this."

I waited, his words sinking in. It would kill my father to see my in this state; so helpless. I took a shaky breath and grabbed the cup of broth from him raising it to my lips. I blew on the hot liquid and took a few small sips.

"Come on Red, you need to have more than that. If you're arm's going to get better you need the nutrients." Fred pushed.

With great effort and encouragement I got down the broth, but I knew there was no way the sandwich was going down too. "I've finished my broth, can you settle on a small victory and forget about the sandwich?" I pleaded. He nodded, a small glint in his eyes. "And where did "Red" come from?"

"You don't think I'm stupid do you? I know that your hair isn't entirely the Black hair. It's got some red in it. And besides, carmine is a shade of red." He replied cheekily. I smiled up at him, happy for my first nickname from a friend. "It's late though, I'll take these downstairs, you get some rest." He said grabbing the dishes and sandwich. He offered a smile before opening the door to leave.

Before he had left though I called to him, "Fred.." I said waiting for him to acknowledge my speaking.

"Yes?"

"Thank you… for being my first real friend." I said to him. He blushed and nodded before continuing out the door and shutting it tight behind him.


	11. Chapter 11

About a month had passed since I came home from the hospital. Things between Fred and myself were awkward as ever, but we were steadily growing closer. I was close with George too, but not quite in the same way. I usually stayed in my room, Molly would bring me food after everyone else had eaten and we would talk a bit, my uncle would come visit me and we would just sit in the company of one another. Ginny and I never really got on too well, so she didn't visit much, and Ron stopped visiting last week when Hermione got here. Arthur never visited much as he was always at work, and gradually the visits of everyone but the twins diminished as activity in the Order picked up. None of the Order members ever came to visit me, and everyone was told that the second door on the third floor was off limits.

I didn't have the sling on my arm anymore, but the cast and bandages remained, I'd learned to work around it for the most part. My shoulder was better which was why the sling was able to be off, as was my ankle so I was much less dependent on others. One could still tell how much this was effecting me though, as even though I could, I refused to leave my room. A bout of depression would wave over me when I tried to do something that I couldn't, that was when it was hardest.

I stood from bed and grabbed my cauldron from the shelf. I balanced it between myself and the wall as I put what all I would need inside for the wolfsbane potion. I knew that the full moon was coming up, and I felt so bad having to get someone else to make it for Remus last month. I sighed as I realized that I couldn't reach one of the ingredients, even standing on my tip toes. The pop of apparition sounded behind me and my mood lightened a bit. "Fred, I need you to grab the monks blood from the top shelf, please." I asked before grabbing my full caldron and sitting down in the middle of the floor. "Oh, and the burner as well if you don't mind." I added as an afterthought.

"You know Woman, some people might consider you a slave driver." He joked.

"I said please." I replied, my tone not faltering. I heard Fred chuckle before he did as I asked and brought me the items.

"What are we making today?" he asked, taking a seat beside me. Since I needed help brewing potions, and he really needed help in the subject I'd taken to tutoring him.

"Wolfsbane Potion." I said sliding the mortar and pestle to him. "Crush six measures of these." I could do some things still, like the measuring and the brewing but I couldn't prepare the ingredients yet. We worked silently alongside one another, me telling him what to do and he joking around. We finished putting it all together and left it to brew for the hour and a half it needed. It was a rather quick potion to make, but it was hard, and disastrous if you got any part of it wrong. I put a small egg-timer on and set it beside the cauldron.

"So where's George today?" I asked. Most times George would visit me with Fred, but he never visited me alone.

"He's helping Mum with something or other."

"How come you never offer to help your mother out?"

"Because," he started putting his arm around me as we sat on the floor, backs against my bed, "I'd much rather be up here with you." He smiled.

I smiled back up at him, every time we were like this I was absolutely ecstatic and a part of me wished that I'd known Fred much longer than I had.

"So listen, I've talked to George and we have a bit of a proposition for you." He said nervously.

"And what might that be?" I asked apprehensively. Knowing him he could be asking me to be a test subject for their next prank item.

"We wanted to know if you'd help us out with making prank items." He said quietly. "And also, if you'd like to try this candy." He added on, holding out a magenta candy to me. A smirk was present on his face, and a devious aura emanated from him.

"No." I denied. For a moment he looked crestfallen, but I knew that was simply because his plans hadn't gone as he'd expected. "But if you can promise that it will go as anonymous I will teach you what you need to know. I'd much rather teach you to be self-sufficient, than coddle you and have you grow used to depending on me." I looked away from him, a stoney look on my face. "There may, after all, come a day where I'm not here to do the work for you. And in that case, I want you to have the skills to move forward without my aid." I was well aware of what the meetings downstairs were for. Though no one would ever tell me, you come to know some things over time. It was an army, they were revolting against the rein of Voldemort; The Order of the Phoenix. Though he was not in direct power now, it was clear that he had to be stopped before he became the downfall of the magical world. When I was of age, or sooner, I was prepared to join and was well aware that not everyone would make it out of this war alive. I didn't want to be among the fallen, if that meant a survivor not being able to go on.

Fred, trying to be the ever happy person he was shrugged off my bout of depression and turned my face to him. "There's nothing out there that's gonna take you away. If no one knows who you are, no one can target you! In a way, you've got it better than anyone else!" He joked, but we both knew that this wasn't the case. The impending doom was in its early stages of setting in, and people were just now beginning to realize what the bad aura meant to the fate of our lives.

The rest of the wait for the potion was silent. Instruction was minimal, and as soon as Fred finished helping me he spared me a hurt look, before walking out the door; an act he only did when the mood was simply too heavy for dissapartation. Before he shut the door behind himself, he whispered to me, "But this war will be won, and I will see to it personally that no one I know will die if I have anything to say about it. That is my promise to you."


	12. Chapter 12

Another week droned on, and I was growing more and more tired of the cast that limited my mobility. The conversation between Fred and myself wasn't brought up again, and no comment was made as to either declaration we had made. Fred promise however stayed in my mind whenever I thought about the war. I couldn't tell if he visited less after that dispute, or if George visited more. Either way, it was a rare sight that one would venture in without the other now, but even still we never talked about their joke items, nor about making potions.

Today the house was especially mad. People had been running in and out much more than usual and even though I never left the comfort of my room, I could tell. Fred and George had been in here most of the day, wanting to escape the insanity that was downstairs. We all knew what the news around here was, what sent everyone into a frenzy: Harry Potter was coming today. In fact, he would be in right in time for dinner, which would be soon by my count. For a quick moment everything stopped, and heavy footsteps pounded on the main floor before the kitchen door was slammed shut. No doubt, another meeting.

From the second floor a very excited Ron called out a greeting to Harry, and Hermione and Ginny followed suit. Fred and George gave me a curt nod before disapparating to greet their friend as well. I didn't know Harry, except from what I had observed of him, so I chose to continue to be a shut in, and stay in my room. Overtime I knew that I was becoming less and less the woman my father and grandmother had raised.

Just the thought actually was enough to bring a few stinging tears to my eyes. My assumption was that Fred and George would try to spy on the meeting again, and their siblings, Hermione and Harry would join in. Sure that I was safe for a while from pestering eyes I pulled out my book of Father's letters. Before reading, I turned to the back and opened the small, hidden pocket. Inside were my favorite pictures of him and myself.

As I looked at the pictures of us through the years I smiled through the tears that blurred my sight. These weren't just any pictures, they were milestones. First was the day I was born, my father held me so gently, his long black hair held back in a ponytail so I wouldn't pull it. Next was my first steps, a picture of me walking into his open arms. The next milestone would be the day that I exhibited my first bit of magic, and then after they took me to Diagon Alley for ice cream. In the Black family, no one goes to Diagon Alley until they show some sign of magic, or until they get their Hogwarts letter. Next was a picture of us on the platform, taken just minutes before I got on the train for my first year in Hogwarts. And last was a picture taken the second last day that I saw him. It was almost as if he knew that he wouldn't ever see me again…

That one day we had gone around Diagon Alley all day reminiscing about everything in my life, him pointing things out that I hadn't remembered. He showed me the Gringotts vault and gave me a key; he bought my kestrel, we had ice cream at Fortescue's; and he reminded me of all of the family secrets. As the sun went down we stood in the family cemetery, and looked on at our family's graves. He pointed out his future plot, and mine should I die a Black. After his space, there was only space for one more. The graveyard was a place I hadn't visited since I'd seen him; I didn't want to go and see his grave had he died. It would give closure, but it would also leave no hope for a future with him, meaning he would miss out on so much more of my life.

Sobbing loudly I shoved the pictures into their spot and dropped the album on the floor. I climbed into my bed on top the covers and sobbed into the pillow, hoping not to attract attention to myself or my room. The newest guests need not know I was here; from my understanding they weren't even told that I resided here. Just that this room was off limits.

Eventually my cries calmed and I lay silently, but depressed. Dinner had long passed, and I heard most of the Order members leave some time ago. I was thankful for the peace and quiet, for the moment, but a pop came from the opposite side of the bed. I felt the mattress sink down beneath me, and an arm wrap around my waist, pulling me back into a hard chest. "You're alone tonight Fred?" I questioned. George hadn't come alone since before the Wolfsbane incident, and he would never crawl into my bed like this.

"I thought it'd be best if I came myself. I could hear you crying again Red." He said, running his fingers through my hair absentmindedly.

"I tried to stifle them, but it does get pent up over time. And I don't think it's a wound that will heal fast. It's already two years deep. And the knife keeps turning every time I see his face, or think of him… I don't know how long it'll take to scar over." I confessed. "I feel the worst when I realize that as time goes on I think of him less and less. I mean, he could be out there! He could be in danger and need my help and here I lay, like a lump on a log."

"Red, there's nothing you could do. I'm sure your father was a more than capable wizard, and if that's the case then there's no way you can help him. You don't know as much as him yet, and he should still be protecting you."

"Then I have nothing more to accept than the fact that if he's not being held from me, he simply left me by choice and doesn't want his only daughter any more, or he's dead…" I sighed. Truthfully, I wasn't sure which of the three options would hurt the least.

For a while we just lay there, Fred comforting me and holding me, and nothing being said between the two of us. Eventually though, I had to bring up something other than my problems. "So Harry arrived alright then?" I asked meekly.

"He was just fine when he got here. Don't think he noticed any of your cries, and I'd have come earlier but he would've questioned it. I don't think he's ever seen me and Fred apart, but we've been risking it with Hermione just fine." He replied.

"Well that's good, what did you tell him about the room?"

"Same thing as everyone else's been told. It's cursed, something Walburga didn't want anyone to see is in here and she cursed it so that no one can enter."

"So how do you explain your mother, George and yourself walking in and out lately?"

"We've taken to apparating at least to this floor. If no one's out we walk in, otherwise we just apparate through the door. Miracle someone hasn't walked in on you changing now that I think of it." He said with a child-like grin.

I turned around in his arms, his joy contagious and a smirk on my face. "But if you saw that, I'd have to kill you." I taunted.

"We both know you don't have the heart to kill me. Besides, you couldn't live without me now if you tried!" he jested. Adding the "now" was new, but I suppose every other time he made the proclamation I just shot him down reminding him that I'd lived fifteen years without him just fine.


End file.
